Chapter 138
"Mom, Mom!" Sarah burst through the front door, excitement evident in her voice.
"Sarah? How are you looking so pretty? Did you get plastic surgery?" Surprised, Sophia could hardly recognize her daughter.
"What are you talking about? I've always been pretty," Sarah flipped her newly dyed long black hair.
"Somebody dropped off a bunch of expensive clothes; they almost filled up your room. What's going on? You didn't get involved with that married director you mentioned last time, did you? You can't demean yourself for some old guy. That's something Layla, that little tramp, would do."
"I'm nothing like her," Sarah spat. "I just got lucky."
She shared the whole story with Sophia.
Sophia listened, her eyes filled with envy. She said with clenched teeth, "What good luck she has. I send her to the orphanage, and she ends up snagging a wealthy guy."
"Tell me about it. I'm green with envy," Sarah grated. "But it doesn't matter because, in the end, Anthony will be mine."
Sophia pondered for a moment before speaking, "It's too risky, if Layla finds out, she'll definitely expose you. I think it's better to ask Anthony for some money and then just cut ties. That's safer."
"No way, I can't pass up such a great opportunity, I won't settle for that." Sarah clenched her teeth. "Mom, you don't understand how handsome Anthony is. I've fallen for him."
"But if he ever finds out the truth about you, remember to know when to stop. Don't end up with nothing; all your efforts would be wasted."
"That won't happen, Layla has no connection to us anyway, we'll just keep them apart." Sarah quickly grasped Sophia's hand tightly. "Mom, I can't do this alone, I need your help."
The title of "Mrs. Eilish" held a fatal attraction for Sarah, and the same was true for Sophia. She couldn't resist the temptation and nodded, "Alright, I'll help you."
...
Layla entered the office drenched and was startled by her disheveled reflection in the mirror.
Her face was covered in grime, save for her clear eyes.
Heavens, had she been walking around like this?
How embarrassing.
She looked so ghastly that no one would spare her a second glance.
"What happened to you? Why are you looking so disheveled?" Nora approached, instructing her secretary, "I've got a spare outfit in my car, bring it for her to change into, and grab some cold medicine too."
"Got it."
"No need, I'll dry off in a bit," Layla quickly waved her off.
"You'll catch a cold. It's okay, wear mine for now," Nora said gently.
Every time Layla mustered the courage to confess to Nora, she would lose it upon facing her. Why did such a perfect and gentle woman exist?
The secretary soon returned with clothes and cold medicine, and Layla followed her to the restroom.
The secretary was young, about Layla's age.
Taking the initiative, the secretary said, "I'm also a City University alum; just graduated last year. My name's Olivia."
"Nice to meet you," Layla said, feeling a sense of camaraderie.
Their shared university experience made for easy conversation.
"How long have you been Nora's secretary?"
"Just a year. Nora is not only a doctor but also a shareholder of the Eilish Group. I help her manage a lot of things."
"Nora is nice, right?"
"Yeah, she's a role model, for all of us," Olivia answered with a laugh and admiration in her eyes. "At work, she's a great boss, always giving me opportunities and guidance, patiently teaching me everything from scratch. Outside of work, she's like a big sister, she's really kind to me."
An angel in human form, Layla thought, wincing inwardly at the thought of causing such a woman harm. She couldn't help but think she'd deserve damnation for that.
Slipping into Nora's crisp white Chanel suit, Layla caught a glance of approval from Olivia, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that she still fell short of sophistication.
Dressing in Chanel didn't transform her into a debutante; it somewhat made her feel like she was putting on airs.
Sometimes, a woman's insecurities could be as narrow as a needle's eye. Knowing full well they shouldn't compare, they'd do so anyway, obsessing over trifles, spoiling their own mood.
Nora was chatting with the foreman when she noticed Layla. She broke into a warm smile, saying, "You look pretty sharp in my outfit."
Chanel, the dream of every woman, was indeed like a dangling carrot for many, especially those who couldn't afford it through their own means-clamoring for it with the persistence of flies, even daring to compete with her for it.
Wearing her clothes seemed to carry an undertone of something unspoken. Layla sensed a metaphor she didn't fully grasp, but decided she was probably being overly sensitive.
"Our company isn't huge. It spans three floors, totaling over four thousand square feet." Olivia was explaining when a woman in a white suit barged in furiously and slapped her across the face. Olivia's glasses flew off and landed on the floor.
Everyone was stunned by the slap.
"You can't just hit someone like that!" the foreman demanded after snapping to his senses.
"She's sleeping with my husband, and I'm dealing with the mistress!" retorted the woman, clutching Olivia's hair and landing two more fiery slaps.
"Miss, there must be some mistake. Olivia is my secretary, she's not that kind of person," Nora tried to intervene.
"Not that kind? Ha! Want to see photos of her in bed with my husband?" the woman said haughtily.
"Seraphina, I'm sorry. Let's go talk outside...not here..." Olivia pleaded, covering her burning face. She tried to pull Seraphina away, but she was met with a fierce kick to the stomach that sent her tumbling to the ground.
"Why talk outside? Scared of your dirty laundry getting aired?"
"You little tramp, taking advantage of your youth to steal my man," she sneered with scorn, "My husband was just playing with you. I'm a director at Electric Group, the heiress. What gives a nobody like you the right to compete with me? Look at yourself! As if you could match up! Please," she spat angrily.
"You vixen!" Enraged, Seraphina yanked Olivia's hair and slapped her harshly and repeatedly.
Olivia, in agony, cried out for mercy, begging, "Stop...please...Seraphina..."
Olivia writhed on the ground in tears, but no one intervened, including Nora, who simply watched indifferently. Some even snickered at the spectacle like it was mere entertainment.
Layla felt a chill run through her heart. It seemed like everyone despised the "other woman," assuming they deserved whatever they got.
She couldn't stand it any longer. Rushing forward, she grabbed Mrs. Seraphina's wrist. "Stop it! Even if she's in the wrong, you have no right to hit anyone."
"Who the hell are you to defend her so eagerly? Look at you, all dolled up - you've got that home-wrecker look to you. What? You're one of her kind, a mistress too?"